Empty Shoes

Empty shoes – what’s the use? Not even the delta blues would sound empathetic. For my part, for sake of heart, I am going to let it keep dying its slow feeble death and hope when winter’s over the decomposing body helped to fertilize the clover. Love is a terrible thing to waste but worse is to desecrate its honor with asides: pitiful untracked lies about who loves who and on which night. It’s fine with me mostly but I see that it can’t change and so I’d be a fool to not attempt to rid you from my brain. Oh how pale in the failing light of old thoughts, how lined you must be with somebody I’m not. My pail lies empty, rusted, broken. Mile in, ease away and we haven’t spoken in many more days past since I wrote this.

~ by perfectionatrix on October 31, 2011.

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